UP…UP…UP…..
Thursday, August 31 (Part 1)
Saint Jean Pied de Port, France to Roncesvalles, Spain
24.90km / 15.47mi. (774.1km/484.53mi to Santiago de Compostela)
You read the books, watch the YouTube vlogs, train for over 6 months, visualize the way forward and think to yourself “I’ve got this!” The truth is: there’s a reason pilgrimages are tough as hell. They’re meant to move you, one bootstep at a time, into an open space of mindfulness, clarity, deep faith (in whatever you aspire to) and light, pure lightness of mind, body and soul.
Confident in my abilities, I set out from Saint Jean Pied de Port, France (SJPP) at 6:20am in the darkness of pre-dawn light with the sound of other pilgrims’ boots hitting the cobblestones heading out through the Porte d’Espagne and then uphill…ever uphill.
“You may not reach your city of good in a single day, but its image out there in your desert is not a mirage. There was never a counterfeit without a reality back of it. Fortunately, your destiny is not external. If it were you could not reach your goal. One by one, without frenzy or impatience, you are going to remove the mental blocks that stand between you and your destiny. What thought has done, thought can undo. The mental patterns laid down in your subconscious throughout the ages can be consciously removed.” - This Thing Called You, page 12
SJPP lies at 170m/556ft above sea level. By the time we arrive at Roncesvalles, Spain, we will have climbed to the highest point, the Col de Lepoeder, at 1450m/4757ft., crossing the Pyrenees mountain range from France into Spain.
Well, the hike up to Orisson, a chalet albergue and café, was 7.8km/4.85mi. up from SJPP…one of the toughest hikes I have done. It reminded me of the steepest rockiest climbs along the Trans-Catalina Trail (an island off the coast of my home in Long Beach, CA). This morning just keeps on going. A nice break was having to stop for a flock of sheep crossing our path; because wherever they want to go…
After my breakfast stop in Orisson’s chalet (for a jugo de naranja, tortilla de patatas y un cafecito), I continue on to the second half and Roncesvalles at 9am sharp. Today, as with every day on the Camino Francés, I’m doing this not just for myself, my deep dive into spirit, but for my dad. Because if he can go through what he’s medically facing at 95, I can certainly put one boot in front of the other and climb…climb. Buen Camino, papi!
“There is a law of faith and belief which is just as definite as any other law in nature. This law utilizes the Creative Principle of Life in such a way that all lesser uses of it become submerged. This is the triumph of Spirit.” - This Thing Called Life, page 17
At the Pic D’Orisson (1100m/3609ft), I stop at the statue of the Virgin (Vierge d’Orisson) along a hillside which is something out of the opening scene from The Sound of Music! After having my picture taken, stopping and chatting in the thin Pyrenees mountain air, I met a guy named Mike, born in Maine, lives in Louisiana, and is on a religious pilgrimage with his friend from Guatemala, Juan.
We got to talking about spirituality, his previous Camino, and how I was praying for my dad along the route. He mentioned that he carries written prayers from friends, knowing that he doesn’t have to read them for the energy of his personal prayers to imbue them. He’ll pray and then burn them at journey’s end…releasing them into the wind like prayers from the Tibetan Prayer Flags I left at Tibet’s Shug-la Pass (5250m/17224ft) in 2013 and (hopefully) still blowing in the high altitude breeze. One of the blessings of the Camino is hoping that we’ll run into each other again (which we did many times).
Nearing the highest point, out of breath, sweating and stopping often to regain strength.
As seemingly trite as it may be (tenets and paradigms are usually tested in real life), my Camino really is like the journey of life. For example, this first day: very strenuous…crossing the Pyrenees! (Who would’ve thought?!) And (breath) you look ahead and (breath) the dot dot dot of climbers on grass, rubble or asphalt. But then you hit a flat patch or a slight decline and you can see for miles around…and you’re gasping for a different reason: the absolute beauty that is all around you. Nearing the clouds, so close that you can practically touch them. Chilly. Windy.
But, again, you look in front of you and up ahead, past the road, above the ridge, you see the Camino, with little dots of people…climbing, climbing, climbing. So…it reminds me that there are challenges in life; places where all you can see is the “elevation” ahead while standing on a flat spot, taking a much-needed breath, and waiting for that push (either internally or within community) to continue putting one foot in front of the other.
“The seed must be left in the creative soil of mind until it can mature. There is a time for sowing as well as a time for harvest. Plants must not be pulled up or interrupted in the process of their growth. They must be watered with hope, fertilized with expectancy and cultivated with enthusiasm, gratitude and joyous recognition.” - This Thing Called You, page 21
This is my Camino. I shed the hubris acquired during countless vlogs and elevation-less power walk trainings along the beach. I pant. I sweat. I stop. And I continue putting one foot in front of the other. ‘Nuff said.
